Away up on the hillside was the little country railway station. ‘They eloped. “I’d never have a day of peace again, John. If you ride past the church, and mount the hill, you'll come to Neasdon and then you'll not have above half a mile to go. From McClintock's came an infernal tinkletinkle, tump-tump! There was no composing with such a sound hammering upon the ear. Take care he don't see you,—and bring me word where he goes, and what he does. . ’ The shift threw Melusine’s attention off the errant major for the moment. In a moment they were in the street outside. “You might at least,” she murmured, “have invented a more romantic reason. ‘Yes, a very sad story,’ agreed the major. I imagine that even you must realize that this is of some importance.
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